


Pillow Talk

by Heptapora



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dirty Talk (Sort of), F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7917838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heptapora/pseuds/Heptapora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attempt at dirty talk goes sour when Lavellan inadvertently stumbles into lies Solas can't stand to tell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a prompt fill on my tumblr for my Lavellan/Solas- "3. Any kinks they clash on?"

”..How many women have you been with?”

The question comes from somewhere level with his chest, where the Inquisitor is nestled in his arms. They’ve been here long enough for the blue sky outside the window to turn to gold, curled together on a bed massive enough to fit them three times over again, blanket slung haphazardly over clothed legs. He’d begun to wonder if she’d drifted off to sleep, she’d been quiet so long, her breath even and regular. He'd even hoped the rest might be doing her good-

And then _that_. He takes a second to think, to consider if, perhaps, he heard her wrong. It came out mumbled, tentative.. But there’s no mistaking what she’s said. He sits up on one elbow so that he might be able to see her face. She meets his gaze for a split second before she turns her eyes away, down, and he can see her jaw working as she nibbles uneasily at the inside of her lip. Jealousy is something he’s never seen in his Lavellan- But perhaps she’s just now growing comfortable enough in their relationship to begin to show it, and he’s never made any secret of the fact that he’s taken lovers before her, any more than she’s been evasive about her lack of experience. It’s.. Interesting. A whole other facet of her personality that he has never had the opportunity to explore.

“That is a loaded question if ever I have heard one. I fear I invite disaster by answering,” he says- Smiling, hoping to diffuse any hurt feelings, any doubts, with humor. He reaches down to sweep her hair affectionately back from her face, and he thinks he’s been successful when she shuts her eyes, leans a little bit into the hand that has moved now to her cheek.

“Tell me about them?”

Quieter than before, scarcely a whisper, and when she opens her eyes again, he realizes that he has never seen the Inquisitor grow jealous, and he isn’t seeing it now. The expression she wears now is one he knows, one he’s learned since he’s begun to share her bed- The intensity in her gaze, the parted lips, the anticipation- This is an _invitation_ , and suddenly, he understands. She’s always spoken so highly of his voice, and now, she would have him talk about the lovers he’d taken before her, and she-

Reflexively, the lies begin to form, ways he could bend the truth to assemble a timeline that would be acceptable to her, experiences tailored to suit Solas the wayward apostate, the man she knows. Faces pass in front of his mind’s eye, snatches of voices and the brushes of hands and the softness of skin-

He lets the threads of the lies drop all at once, dispels the ghosts of his past. She would believe whatever myth he offered her, he knows- But he will not ask her to.

“That would be unwise.” Her face falls instantly at the cool reply, the way he knew it would, the invitation rescinded- And he feels a pang of sympathy, knowing what it must have cost her to ask for that kind of favor, knowing what it costs her to be shot down. He lies back down, begins to comb his fingers through her hair, gently, and it isn’t enough- He imagines that he can feel her drawing away, just a little bit, and maybe he can. Maybe it would have been kinder to lie, again. But he can’t, not about this, and he accepts the cold weight of guilt in the pit of his stomach as punishment.


End file.
